


Strings Attached

by dawnstruck



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Friends With Benefits, Future Fic, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 15:06:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7468341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnstruck/pseuds/dawnstruck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by: ‘We’ve been fucking with no strings attached but I just saw you go upstairs with another guy and I'm drunk and following you both upstairs to punch the shit out of him."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strings Attached

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote so much knb and especially Aokise that at some f´point I felt a little exhausted by it and focused on other fandoms. But then I saw this post on tumblr - http://bunnyhips.tumblr.com/post/146707449767 - and the according tags that it would perfectly work for Aokise. And I was inspired.

 

It's all a coincidence, of course.

A coincidence that they end up living in the same building, and a fucking unlikely one at that because it's not like Kise to be living with the common people, in a one-room apartment with a not so lovely view onto the railway tracks nearby where trains still rattle past at ungodly hours of the night.

It's a coincidence that, instead of just falling back into the easy friendship and pride fueled rivalry of their youth, they fall into bed with each other instead.

A coincidence that they have fucked on the naked floorboards during those same ungodly hours of the night, shaken by their heartbeats and the cargo trains outside.

They both keep odd hours, Aomine with classes and training and extra studying so he won't lose his scholarship, and Kise leaving early for modeling jobs and interviews and a perfectly balanced workout at the gym and often coming home late from evenings of either socializing on celebrity events or appearing on some tv show.

He must be making money in spades and, while Aomine can't really complain because he doesn't need to get a part-time job what with his parents' generous allowance, he can't quite understand why Kise won't get himself a nicer place.

I like it here, Kise had confided in him, giving a languid shrug and the smile that was reminiscent of the teenage boy he had once been. I like how everyone knows each other, like a big family. I help the old lady from upstairs carry her shoppings and when the students next door are having a party I can hear them laugh. I like it.

Besides, he had added, a little thoughtfully, I can always get an apartment in Shibuya when I'm older and need to hone my image. Now might be the only time I get to experience living like you plebeians.

Plebeians, Aomine had snorted, turning his head away as though deeply offended, You ate a dictionary just to find new insults for me or something?

Of course not, you resplendent cretin, Kise had said and rolled on top of him to lick into his mouth and chase away any kind of intelligible answer Aomine might still have been capable of.

It's easy between them like that. They don't get to spend a whole lot of time with each other, but when they do it's always pleasant.

Kise doesn't push for things, not in the way most of Aomine's previous partners did. Kise, of course, has an unfair advantage. He already knows Aomine. Knows he enjoys just lounging around most evenings, so he doesn't drag him out to clubs. Knows he just leaves his skin mags lying about shamelessly, so he doesn't get jealous.

When Kise pushes it's for things Aomine wants, too. Which is usually basketball. Or food. Or sex.

Kise fucks so well it leaves Aomine breathless, more so than the average game of streetball does. He's never been with another athlete before, certainly not someone who was even close to keeping up with him. But Kise laughs when he comes, Kise whines when Aomine won't let him. Kise makes smoothies when the sun goes up and Aomine complains how it's no real breakfast but drinks them anyway.

In the beginning, they'd always been too hungover for that. When they met, they drank. When they drank, they fucked. The fucking happened all by itself now. And sometimes not even that.

Sometimes Aomine dropped by and Kise was too tired from work. Sometimes they just ended up watching the news together or talking aimlessly until they fell asleep.

Aomine likes the hangover-free mornings, and his team does, too. His coach has even been commending him for his renewed dedication.

Win your next game for me, Aominecchi, Kise had said and slowly sunk himself down on Aomine's cock.

It was like a promise and a threat, like Kise Ryouta only wanted the best of the best, like he didn't fuck losers, like his bum leg had stopped his own sports career but if he won their one-on-ones in bed it was just as good as beating Aomine on the court.

Aomine can't even disagree.

 

Today is a Thursday so Aomine grabs two beers from the fridge, stuffs his keys into his pocket, and doesn't even change from his house slippers into his outdoor shoes. He pulls the door shut behind himself and makes his way up the stairs to the second floor, dragging his feet and yawning a little.

He won't be up for much tonight, he doesn't think. Just jerking each other off, or maybe a blowjob from Kise. He's good at those, doesn't seem to mind when it's one-sided, even when Aomine has a habit of falling asleep right after orgasm, especially to the feeling of Kise so nicely combing his fingers through Aomine's hair.

He doesn't even bother knocking on the door, knows it will be unlocked anyway, steps in.

Kise's apartment is usually a mess, but it's a mess of pretty things instead of dirty laundry, fancy clothes and hair products strewn around, and he's always got some air freshener, sandalwood or lemongrass or whatever, so it's better than Aomine's place which he only cleans up when the mold in the takeout boxes looks sentient enough to want to have some strong words with him about the importance of general hygiene.

Today it seems surprisingly tidy. It's never actually dirty but now everything is neatly put away or at least hastily shoved into some near-bursting closet.

“Yo,” Aomine says, lazily lifting a hand at Kise who is standing in front of his big-ass mirror and holding two shirts against his chest to compare them.

“Black shirt or blue one?” Kise asks, turning away from his reflection and cocking his head at Aomine.

“Blue,” Aomine says without thinking because it's his favorite color and because black generally looks much too harsh on Kise. He also has a rather fond memory of him and Kise going to buy booze late one evening and having to run back home in the rain, of pushing Kise up against the closed door and stripping that same blue shirt off him, button by button, peeling if off his hot damp skin, dragging his fingertips over Kise's rosy nipples and little more than that, but Kise's breath stuttering in hungry anticipation.

Now Kise is pulling the white t-shirt he is wearing over his head, exposing first the dips on the small of his back and then his rippling shoulder blades, and the fact that he is changing outfits probably means he already has something else scheduled for the evening.

“When you're gonna be back?” Aomine asks, vaguely aware of how husky his voice has gone at the sight in front of him.

Kise glances back, well familiar with that tone.

“Sorry,” he says, flashing an apologetic grin. “Today's a little bit... How about next week?”

Aomine grunts, a little miffed. Thursday is usually their day and they rarely break that routine. Even if Kise has to stay out late, they try to squeeze in some thirty minutes of whatever kind of quality time they have on mind.

“I'll make it up to you,” Kise promises and gives him a wink.

“Whatever,” Aomine rolls his shoulders, lifts the beer cans in his hand in a mock salute. “I'll be drinking these on my own then.”

Kise snorts. “Don't let your coach know.”

“Don't stay out too late,” Aomine warns in turn. “Or your make-up artist will complain about the bags under your eyes again.”

Kise gives an indignant squawk and throws a hairbrush at him. Aomine chuckles and ducks out again.

He ends up drinking the two beers on his own, and then another, listlessly flicking through channels and getting stuck on some mildly entertaining foreign action movie that has a lot of explosions and Western actors whom he can't really tell apart.

He almost dozes off but is shaken awake by the train thundering by and then the headlights of a car flashing right into his windows before it veers off at the street corner, so he forces himself to get up and at least pull the curtains shut because he kinds hates knowing that anyone can look into his bedroom at any time.

He doesn't quite make it that far, however. He is scratching his left butt cheek, reaching for the curtain as he happens to glance outside.

There, on the foot of the stairs that lead to the upper floor, stands Kise, his hair dimly glowing underneath the yellow light. He's not alone, though, and before Aomine can even wonder about that, Kise has grabbed the other man by the hand and is pulling him up the stairs, until they are both out of eyeshot.

Aomine blinks slowly, his sleep and alcohol addled brain trying to work through what he has just seen.

Kise. With another guy. Going up to his room. In the middle of the night. After turning down Aomine's offer.

Kise. With another guy.

Aomine closes the curtain, bathing his room in dark.

Kinda not how he had expected his evening to end. Usually, he'd be up in Kise's bed now, on his stomach, and Kise running a palm up and down his spine, like smoothing down the cooling sweat.

Tonight Kise was... going to have sex with someone else, apparently.

Huh. The guy hadn't really seemed like Kise's type, even if it was hard to tell in the dark, of course. A little on the short side, and rather stocky. Plain, even. Did Kise like plain men? Was Aomine plain?

Aomine could hitch Kise up and fuck him against the wall. He doubted shorty could do that.

Was shorty fucking him now? Or did Kise do the fucking? He was good at that, too, just like Kise was good at everything. Shorty really lucked out there.

Thursday was their night, though. He and Kise always hung out on Thursdays.

They'd never actually spoken about it, but Aomine had always assumed that their arrangement was exclusive. He certainly didn't fuck anyone else on the side. Why would he even bother, when he had Kise right there, pretty and perfect and several other adjectives Aomine couldn't quite think of right now?

But maybe it wasn't the same for Kise. Maybe Aomine wasn't good enough for him, wasn't satisfying his needs. Fuck, maybe Kise wanted a proper boyfriend.

I can't openly date, Kise had admitted once, It's in my contract. Fans want to imagine themselves dating me and they can't do that if I'm with someone else. And it's unfair to date someone in secret just because of my job.

He had sounded very matter-of-fact about that, with a hint of humor, but also somewhat morose and wistful.

So maybe he couldn't date but maybe he wanted to. Maybe he was trying to find someone who was willing to lay low. Maybe that guy up there would become someone for whom Kise would risk his career, for whom he put on nice clothes and cleaned up his room.

Fuck that, though.

Kise wasn't just gonna find love through some random hook-up. He'd only end up with his heart broken and then Thursdays would be spent with Aomine having to listen to him cry.

Yeah, right. Aomine wasn't gonna let that happen.

He was gonna go upstairs and tell that guy straight to his ugly face, that stupid self-righteous bastard, he'd tell him, You don't know Kise, not like I do, you asshole, you've got no right to be here, he can't love you.

No, he thinks, already on his way out the door, he's not gonna talk. He'll punch that fucker right in the nose, so even if he's more handsome that Aomine he won't be anymore. His eyes will swell shut so he can't look at Kise, his lips will be bloody so he can't kiss Kise, shit, Aomine should break both his hands so he can't _touch_ Kise.

If he were any more sober Aomine would probably worry about this level of possessiveness. As it is, though, he just stomps up the concrete stairs, which isn't quite as satisfying when wearing house slippers, but when he reaches the door he hesitates for just a second, afraid of catching them right in the act.

It hasn't been that long, though. They're probably not even naked yet. Maybe they haven't even kissed. But the longer Aomine hesitates, the more time they will have.

He bursts through the door.

Kise and that sucker are seated on the couch.

Aomine and he had fucked on that couch, you couldn't just seat a stranger there, you couldn't just fuck them there.

“Aominecchi,” Kise blinks in surprise. “I told you I'd be busy tonight.”

“Yeah, I can fuckin' see that,” Aomine snaps, slurring a little.

Kise scrunches up his nose. “Are you drunk? You have training tomorrow, you should-”

“Don't lecture me on etiquette.” The corners of Aomine's mouth pull down.

“Why are you even still friends with him if he obviously hasn't changed since school?” the other guy suddenly pipes up, and he's addressing Kise but he sounds annoyed at both of them.

“He's not usually like this,” Kise says and fidgets a bit.

“Well, he is still rude and ill-tempered, as far as I can tell,” shorty huffs, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Aomine glares at him, only just now realizing that he does seem strangely familiar.

“And who the fuck are you,” he asks gruffly, watching the guy's shoulders tense in indignation.

“Aominecchi,” Kise chides sharply, quickly standing up from the couch and rounding the coffee table. “That's Kasamatsu-sempai.”

“Ah,” Aomine grunts. Then, “You fucking your way through all your former teammates then?”

Kise gasps loudly, but it's Kasamatsu who surges up as well and takes a step forward.

“Listen, you bastard,” he says, his eyes dangerously narrowed. “I don't know what you think is going on here, but I don't like your tone.”

“Listen yourself, short stuff,” Aomine growls back. “I came here to beat you up, so I don't really care for your opinion.”

This time, Kasamatsu just looks perplexed, “You didn't even remember me but you wanted to beat me up? _What_?”

“Yeah,” Aomine nods his head. “'cause I don't want you fucking Kise.”

“Aominecchi.” Kise's face is red now, anger and embarrassment, and he crowds in on Aomine, pushing against his shoulder. “Kasamatsu-sempai is my guest and I won't have you treat him like that. So please leave.”

“What, so the two of you can have your fun?” Aomine snaps and realizes too late that it's the wrong thing to say because it makes the gold in Kise's eyes glint dangerously.

“None of your business,” he says primly and succeeds in pushing Aomine through the threshold. Aomine lets it happens. He wanted to hurt Kasamatsu, not Kise.

For a moment they stand like this, just looking at each other, while Kise runs his hand along the side of the door in a nervous manner.

“Let's just talk about this tomorrow, Aominecchi,” he says, very softly, and then lets the lock click into place.

 

That night Aomine goes to sleep with a heavy head, and the next morning he goes to training with a hangover. His coach doesn't comment, just purses his lips at him and makes him sit out during the in-team practice match.

He wonders whether Kise and Kasamatsu were fucking right above him last night while he stared up at the ceiling. Or worse, whether they were talking about what a waste of space Aomine is and that Kise should do well to kick him out of his life, just like he kicked him out of his door.

Aomine can't even find it in himself to disagree.

Now that he is sober again, he knows that his behavior was out of line. He knows he's got no say in who Kise meets or fucks or dates. But he also knows that the way things are now majorly suck.

After classes are over, Aomine makes his way home, dropping by the corner store to grab some of the chocolate chip cookies Kise likes so much but would never buy himself because he claims he has to watch his weight. Then he goes to sit in his room and waits.

It's sundown when Kise begins to trudge his way up the stairs, and Aomine cannot help but notice that Kise usually skips. He hesitates for a moment, second-guesses whether this is actually the best approach, but then he just grabs the cookies and makes for the door.

“Kise,” he calls out, making the other stop at the top of the stairs.

“Aominecchi,” Kise says, glancing back over his shoulder and then doesn't offer anything more.

“Er,” Aomine lifts the cookies, invitingly rattles the box. “Can I can up?”

For a moment it looks like Kise is going to refuse him. But then he just sighs.

“Of course, Aominecchi.”

 

Kise's apartment is still as tidy as the day before. Aomine isn't sure what he expected. Torn-off clothes, maybe. Used condoms.

Kise just nods over to the sofa and then turns towards the kitchenette himself.

“Would you like something to drink, Aominecchi?” he asks politely and Aomine bites his tongue.

“Sure,” he says and, trying to keep his tone light. “And maybe for you not to speak so fucking formally.”

Kise stills but then he just gets some iced tea from the fridge, carefully pouring it into two glasses, and Aomine finds himself on edge.

He's not... good with stuff like this, and never has been. He had hoped that his tentative peace offering would be enough, but apparently he's fucked up more than expected.

“I'm... sorry. For being rude. Last night,” he tries, the words feeling slightly foreign on his tongue. It's not like he has never apologized to anyone before, but generally Kise just forgives him his transgressions. But maybe he had really gone too far this time.

Kise is silent for a moment.

“I don't much mind you being rude to me, Aominecchi,” he says eventually. “I know you usually don't mean anything by it and it's just part of who you are. I accept that. But you were extremely impolite to someone who is very important to me. I don't think I've ever felt quite so embarrassed.”

Oh. That... actually hits hard. Aomine can take anger and accusations. But Kise feeling humiliated because of his actions... that's something else entirely.

“To be fair,” he mumbles, knowing it's a dick move, lightly kicking against coffee table. “You could've mentioned that you were meeting your old captain.”

Kise, who had at least turned back towards him, now looks afronted.

“I didn't exactly think it was important,” he says. “Or that you would freak like that. Usually you never care about what happens in my life.”

Aomine purses his lips. “' course I care.”

“You never really listen when I tell you about my day.”

“Yeah, but c'mon,” Aomine holds up his palms. “What's all that celebrity crap meant to tell me?”

Kise takes a very deep breath, obviously trying to tame the angry outburst that is threatening to erupt. Aomine wonders whether he should egg him on, just to get it out of the way.

Surprisingly, however, Kise opts for a change of subject.

“For the record,” he points out snappishly. “Kasamatsu-sempai has a girlfriend.”

“I couldn't have known that,” Aomine counters.

“So you just assumed the worst? This may come as a surprise to you, Aominecchi, but not all of my friends are trying to get into my pants.”

Aomine stills.

“Don't turn that on me,” he says dangerously. “Don't act like I tricked out into anything because I didn't. You were on board with it.”

He doesn't dare thinking about the alternative. Because if Kise had only ever done this out of some twisted sort of obligation-

But before his eyes, Kise just falters.

“No, sorry, that was-” the blonde apologizes, wipes a hand over his wan face. “This isn't going anywhere. Why were you angry, Aominecchi?”

“... Because I thought I was just another guy you fooled around with.”

“Well, you aren't,” Kise says curtly. “You're not... So.”

Aomine frowns, wondering whether this marks the end of the conversation. Wonders whether this was a reconciliation, a postponement, or a rejection.

“Sooo...,” he prompts. “Are we good?”

“Is this a 'good enough to keep fucking'?” Kise asks and it's strange to hear him speaking in such vulgar terms. When Kise swears it's all cutesy like a sweet old lady, partly caused by him having to watch his tone to preserve his public image. This bluntness does not suit him.

“In part, yeah,” Aomine admits but then again he has never quite learned when kind lies were better than the honest truth. Clumsily he adds, “I don't wanna stop.”

“No,” tiredly Kise smiles down at the floor. “I hadn't thought so.”

Aomine follows his instincts then, gets up to his feet and walks over to Kise. Kise makes to move away, but Aomine just presses close, cups both hands around Kise's jaw and tilts his chin up.

“Hey,” he murmurs into a loose little kiss and his voice is somewhat rough. “I thought you like this, too.”

Kise seems torn between wanting to shy away or melt into his touch.

“I do,” he breathes, his eyes fluttering shut, “I do, but... I'm not sure. It's all getting too much.”

At that, Aomine pulls back slightly. Too much? Was their fooling around too exhausting, getting in the way of Kise's work? Was Aomine just generally too forceful? What-

“Aominecchi,” Kise says. “I've fallen in love with you.”

Somewhere nearby the train passes and the entire building shakes. Aomine feels rattled to the core.

“Wha-?”

“Yeah,” Kise gives a bashful little laugh, detaches himself from Aomine's hold, goes back to fixing their drinks.

“Stupid, right?” he asks, tinkering around with the glasses. His voice is very thin, very light. Like a dew drop in a spider web. “I mean I tried to talk myself out of it, obviously, because I know you're not interested in relationships and any of that. So mostly it's been kind of inconvenient because thinking about it is really distracting, and then Kasamatsu-sempai said I should just break things off with you which, I know he meant well, but it's not actually helping, I mean I'd still see you around and everything, so I'd have to move away, but maybe I should move away actually, I've probably made you uncomfortable now. That was not my intention, I'm truly very sorry.”

Aomine is used to Kise going off on a tangent and blabbering his head off. He is not used to watching it end in tears.

The first one is quite innocuous, really, just spills down Kise's cheek, all on its lonesome, but then there is another, and another, and his voice is titled sideways by a suppressed sob.

“Oh,” he says, wiping the heel of his thumb across the corner of his eye, blinking down at the wetness on his skin as though surprised to see it there. “How embarrassing.”

“Can we, uh, can we get back to the confession thing?” Aomine asks, wide-eyed. It's been a while since he has been so blindsided by anything in life. “How long has this been going on?”

“I don't know,” Kise claims and then follows it up with a pretty precise, “When you came to pick me up from work three months ago.”

“I, what-,” Aomine fumbles. “Why then?”

“Because you were waiting in the lobby and you brought an umbrella and hot chocolate and Michio-chan wondered whether that handsome guy was anyone's boyfriend and I wanted so badly to say yes.”

Aomine blearily remembers that day, remembers the rain and how happy Kise had seemed to see him, even if a little absentminded. Had that already been the first sign?

It's a difficult concept to grasp, to fully understand this revelation.

Automatically, Aomine's shields come up because this is what he had been trying to avoid after all. He doesn't want a relationship with all of its hassles. A minute after officially getting Kise's feelings involved in this, there are already tears and misunderstandings. Aomine is not ready for this.

And yet...

For quite some time Kise had been in love. Kise had been in love and absolutely nothing had changed. Even this confrontation today had not be caused by Kise but by Aomine himself.

Kise never pushed for anything, except for things Aomine wanted as well.

Maybe... maybe it's time for Aomine to start pushing for a change.

“Hey,” Aomine tries, awkwardly reaching out to pull Kise back into his arms. “Hey, let's talk this over again, okay?”

“Aominecchi,” Kise sniffs and sounds somewhat defeated as though he has already accepted the inevitable. But Kise isn't the losing type. Kise picks himself up again and again until he wins. “Do you love me?”

“I dunno, I don't-,” Aomine pulls a face, frowns deeply. “I know I wanted to punch whoever laid hands on you.”

But that doesn't say much of anything apart from the fact that Aomine is apparently a possessive bastard.

“I don't want you to move out,” he amends. “I don't want you to stop being friends with me. I wanna hang out more. I want you to talk to me about your problems, not to your captain or anyone else. Even if I'm the problem.”

“That, um, that does sound kind of nice,” Kise murmurs against his neck. “So... how about... we give this a trial run?

“What's that supposed to mean?” Aomine wants to know.

“We could try... treating it like an actual relationship,” Kise proposes carefully. “Um. Maybe date.”

Aomine thinks about all the tiny expensive café Kise loves so much, about how he always takes pictures of the desserts and chatters with the waitresses.

“Okay,” he agrees. “But you're paying. I'm on a budget.”

Kise laughs wetly, clearly caught off guard. There are still tears caught in his eyelashes when he pulls back to properly look at Aomine.

“You would date me?” he makes sure. “Strings attached and all?”

“Strings attached,” Aomine agrees and means it.

For once, the house is not shaking around them. For once, it is quiet.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you liked it! Maybe I'll get around to writing these two again sometime soon. :D


End file.
